SlightlyAngsty Spirit of the Choir Room
by Nota Lone
Summary: Two girls annoy Erik, Raoul, and Christine in the middle of the RaoulChristine love scene. Oh, dear. They're baaaaack.
1. Fun on the Roof Top

**Slightly-Angsty Spirit that Abides in the Choir Room (C-11)**

_I know the whole 'falls into a story thing' is very old, but I love messing with them. :)_

* * *

Christine andRaoul professed their love, unaware that someone was watching. And that they would soon be interrupted by someones. 

"I still think Phantom of the Opera is the ultimate job," declared the interrupting voice.

"Wearing a mask and angsting in the basement of somewhere that they sing in high-pitched voices until the wee hours of the morning is your dream job?" the other voice responded incredulously.

"No, wearing a mask, never paying taxes, conning the idiotic owners of the opera house out of their money, composing angsty music, and scaring the high-pitched singers out of their shallow little minds is what makes it the ultimate job."

Christine had begun to grow slightly wary of these voices. She had issues with voices before. Raoul was too busy staring at her like a foppish love-sick puppy to care. The mysterious voice was too busy being disgruntled, maniacal, and depressed to care, thank-you very much.

"I see. But, there can only be one Phantom of the Opera. You don't want to look like a poser. He could also have copyrighted the title."

The voice seemed to mull over this for a moment. "Fine, I will be the Slightly-Angsty Spirit that Abides in the Choir Room (C-11)."

"And that just rolls off the tongue."

The door to the room/balcony/whatever it was where Raoul, Christine, and the rather mysterious person was opened, startling all but the last, who was too depressed and disgruntled to be surprised. At best he was slightly perturbed. The mysterious strangers went into the room revealing themselves to be none other than the great, mysterious, incomprehensibly original…pair of thirteen-year-olds, who continued to talk as if nothing had happened.

"Love triangles annoy me, though I am writing one. Of course, they all die in the next chapter."

"I thought you hated killing off characters."

"I do. They're coming back in the chapter after that, but one of them as a monkey. Boom, no more love triangle."

"And how much sugar had you eaten when you came-up with this?"

"Erm…a lot."

Raoul suddenly decided to speak-up. "Ehem, excuse me."

"You're excused."

Raoul was flabbergasted. "Do you not know who I am?"

The girl that had professed her interest in becoming the Phantom of the Opera (here-on known as GTPHIIBTPOTO) lifted an eyebrow. "The muffin man?"

Raoul puffed himself up like a deranged blowfish. "I am the Viscount Raoul."

The girls burst into laughter. GTPHIIBTPOTO snickered. "Yep, and I'm the Wicked Witch of the West, and this is my friend the bloody Queen of England." The girl referred to as the bloody Queen of England (GRATBQOE) rolled her eyes.

"But…"

"We're not stupid. Raoul's a character in the Phantom of the Opera. A rather foppish and annoying one actually."

"It was a very bad April Fools Day joke."

"But it isn't April and I am the Viscount!"

"Just give it up already, will ya?" muttered GRATBQOE.

The Phantom of the Opera enjoyed the Raoul bashing immensely, but he had things to do, like plot the fop's timely demise. He walked out of the shadows. Christine nearly had a heart-attack and Raoul ruined his silken undies. The girls, however, were strangely unperturbed.

"That's a whoop-ass mask, where'd ya get it?" questioned GTPHIIBTPOTO.

The Master of Trapdoors pulled out is Punjab lasso.

"Wow, where'd you get THAT? I've been looking for one since the movie came-out, but no one seems to want to sell me one..."

"Shocking," drawled GRATBQOE.

"Hey! I have a perfectly clean record!"

"Except for the noodle incident."

"You can't prove I did that!"

"Maybe not, but every one knows you did it."

"Everyone _blames _me, which is so typical."

"SILENCE!" boomed the Phantom.

"Wow, you have really good baritone range."

"Of course, I am the Phantom."

"That's not even feasible. How could someone with a voice that low teach her to get into the upper registers?"

The Phantom was becoming extremely irritated. "Is this proof enough for you?" He took off his mask.

"Ya know, the rash would get better if you didn't keep the mask on it. The mask's probably just irritating it."

"And how do suggest I fix it?"

The girls looked at each other. "You put the lime in the coconut and drink them both together. Put the lime in coconut and then you feel better." They continued so sing the non-senseical song until they disappeared.

Christine had a thought (GASP!). "I have found my true calling! I must become a womens' rights activist in Halfabrainastan! To the ditz-mobile, away!"

Raoul and Erik stared at each other for a minute.

"What. The. Hell."

* * *

_Hehehe, that was fun. I'm sorry the ending so 'different'. I couldn't think of anything else. Have a Happy Day of April Foolishness!_


	2. Don Juan, erm, Annoyed

_I am continuing my one-shots and leaving my real fics dormant. Ah well, you know what they say, 'Live life while your alive' or some such useless crud. (I never really listen to them myself…)

* * *

_

It was the middle of the famed Don Juan Triumphant, and all of the Paris elite were there to be nosey (you didn't actually think they were coming for the performance, did you). Unfortunately, the girls in box two absolutely refused to stop talking.

"I feel sorry for poor old P-guy."

"You mean Pigani."

"Yeah, him. Not only does he have that unpronounceable name, he's on the Phantom's most wanted list there. Right under that Viscount feller. Doomity doom doom rains down like coconuts."

"First, Pigani is not unpronounceable. Second, what are you talking about?"

"What do you mean what am I talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"What in the name of Henry VIII's enormous undies and matching corset are you talking about?"

The saner (more sane? Eh, whatever) of the girls rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother having conversations with you?"

The other girl (who, strangely enough, has never been photographed with the slightly famous Slightly Angst Spirit) munched on her pop-corn reflectively for a moment. "You're one of those eternally hopeful saps apparently."

The sane one (or SO for short) tosses a popcorn kernel at the insane one's head (IO for short).

"Really, I think I should do something, but I'm worried about the Phantom Tollbooth."

"You mean the Phantom of the Opera."

"No, the Phantom Tollbooth is what worries me. Apparently, you have to pay a toll to see the Phantom. I'm low on cash…"

SO sighed. "The Phantom of the Opera and the Phantom Tollbooth are mutually exclusive."

"Oooooh. Well, that's handy!" And with a chipper wave, IO cried, "Tally ho the fop, Slightly Angsty away!"

SO grabbed IO's cloak before she could make it out of the box, however. "Really, we don't want another roof incident."

"Pish and posh and whatnot, I am a month wiser. Or, older at least…"

"Really J-" IO clamped her hand over SO's mouth.

"Do not reveal my secret identity fool!"

SO seemed annoyed for a moment, but then smiled. "So my choir-haunting fiend, what is your plan?"

IO gave an alarming smile. "Plan? What beith this plan of which you speak?" she questioned, and then whisked SO away.

Raoul gasped, hearing the conversation from box five. "They're going to get themselves killed!" He got up to save them or some such characteristic Raoul thing when a voice was heard, projected though-out the opera house, like the time that the Phantom (Ok, this is irritating, I'm calling him Erik) decided to grouse about the occupancy of his box.

"Dead men tell no tales."

"If you're not going to be serious-"

"Sorry, sorry, I simply couldn't help myself. I'll do it right this time."

"I surely hope so."

"Kay, here's the deal. Don't go killing anyone, cuz it's bad, immoral, and I have a gun fixed on Christine's head."

"WHAT!" Raoul and Erik cried in unison.

"Yeppers. Ya see, you put me between a rock, a hard place, and the iron giant, so I had to do something drastic. Rather diabolical of me, yes no?"

The Opera Populare stood a moment in silent shock.

"And, if you follow my easy instruction, everyone shall emerge unscathed. At least not by us. Well, everyone but that guy I accidentally kicked in the head on my way up…"

Erik snarled and pushed Christine behind him. "What is it you want, impudent child?"

"Lupines." There was muffled laughter. "Ok, no really, I want you and de Changny over there to shake hands, shut-up, and give poor Christine a choice."

"But we've given her a choice!" called out a perturbed Raoul.

The voice snorted. "Riiiight. You never gave her a choice. Erik just told her to go with him to the darkness and you're telling her all about all you ask is to love me, blablabla. Really, you two tend to corner her. No wonder she's mental."

"Now now, Christine is not mental, she's just confused. It's understandable," chided SO.

"Little voices are singing songs in her head. If I went around telling people that there were little singing voices in my head, I would be off to Bedlam so fast my head would spin."

A loud sigh was heard. It was interrupted, not by the voice, but by Raoul, who had hurried on to the stage and shook the Phantom's hand very quickly.

"Humph. No one listens till you're a big voice with a gun."

Raoul stared up at the ceiling, where the voice seemed to originate from. "Now will you lower your weapon?"

"My what?"

"Weapon, girl!" (Erik had realized the voice was young and female.) "Lower the gun you have pointed at Christine!"

"Oh. Forgot about that one, sorry. I made that up. But anywho, give Christine a choice or a disaster beyond Andre and Firmin's imaginations will occur!"

"Andre and Firmin's imaginations," questioned a befuddled Raoul. (Mostly in shock)

"Well, you two could probably think up something worse than I'm 'planning'…"

It was at this time that the previously silent opera-goers noticed Erik, striding towards the spot from where the voice was coming. (By ropes fool. He can't fly...)

"Nice try my tollbooth-less fiend, but we shall overcome and all that clichéd jazz!"

The Phantom's theme music suddenly blared and the voices were gone. And when I say the Phantom's theme, I mean that in the loosest terms. It was the same tune, but apparently played by Oomapa Loompas on various odd instruments.

Erik turned to Raoul and Christine and gave an exasperated sigh. "Who are they, and more importantly, how the heck do we get rid of these, these-"

"Phantom menaces?" suggested the voice, which then laughed and left once more.

Christine then turned, surveying the opera. "Wait, how did I get here? I was in Halfabrainastan just a scene ago…"

* * *

_Oh my. I am weird. Oh well, one must write a senseless non sequier once and a while…_

Review replies:

**the sexy muffin**- Incomprehensible funny is my specialty.

**Baby-vixen-** Dually noted dear. But remember, she who slaps last slaps the slapingnest!

**Skywind**- Oh dear. I hope neither reviewer nor ground was hurt. The ground continues to pelt me with frivolous lawsuits…

**Grace**- Why thank you. I was the age of the interlopers. Now, the interlopes and I hath aged. –Nod-

**Maidenhair**- True, true. I only make sense when I really feel like it, or it is truly imperative.

**Calliope Foster**- Ah the ever revered Muffin Man…

**MagickAlianne**- Velcome, velcome dahling. Puns are fun.

**Moreen Cafel**l-Wow, I have absolutely no voice from yesterday… :D

**Capin'Jack**- Don't worry, you're only mostly dead. Which makes you slightly alive.

**Rabid Gerbil 666**- That would be scary… hides

**SimplyElymas**- The link didn't show up… But glad that the Muffin Man is so loved. :D

**LittleMeg**- sweatdrop I've put off my betaing to the point of… Well…. Heh….


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